


Mend

by earthseed_fic



Series: Mending [1]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Slash, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 09:20:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earthseed_fic/pseuds/earthseed_fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They debriefed at Stark Towers.  That should have been his first clue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mend

**Author's Note:**

> My first story in this fandom. Clint/Phil is too delicious to pass up.
> 
> There are spoilers for the Avengers movie, but do note the 'fix-it' tag above.
> 
> Written for Round 1 of the Clint/Coulson Bingo challenge. Prompt 5: Taking Care of a Sick/Injured Partner, with a little of Prompt 16, Undressing Each Other, thrown in.

**_mend_ **

1\. to make (something broken, worn, torn, or otherwise damaged) whole

2\. to set right

************************************************************************

They debriefed at Stark Towers.  That should have been his first clue.

Thor and Bruce both left the room (though for different reasons, he realized later). Natasha sat next to him on the sofa, placing one hand gently on his thigh.  Tony stood off in a corner, arms crossed, jaw set, barely able to look him in the eye.  Steve sat across from him, all steely resolve.

He knew it was bad.  He couldn't remember all that he had done, but he knew it had to be bad.  He was a SHIELD operative after all.  He was well-trained in doing really bad things.

So he was prepared to hear a lot of things: how many people he killed, how many deaths he was responsible for, the charges that would be brought against him, a request for his resignation--from SHIELD or the Initiative, it didn't matter.  He didn't deserve any of this. 

He wasn't prepared for Captain America to call him Clint and tell him that Phil was gone.

"Was it me?" He could hardly breathe, but he had to know. 

"No," Natasha said. She moved so that her body was flush with his. He was thankful for the solid presence at his side.  He felt like he might fly apart otherwise. "It was Loki. Phil went up against him on his own."

And now Phil wasn't in his ear guiding him and he didn't know what to do.

"Will there be a service?" He looked from Natasha to Steve and then to Tony. "I know they won't let me--. It wouldn't be--."  He took a deep breath and tried again.  "I'd like to say goodbye."

Steve asked, "Can you find out, Tony?" at the same time as Tony said "Jarvis."

10 minutes and one call to Fury later, they knew two things: no one could locate Phil's body and SHIELD was lying.

45 minutes later (after Tony launched a no holds barred cyber attack on SHIELD's servers) Fury was standing in Tony's demolished den explaining to all six of them why sometimes lying was a necessary, if regrettable, part of his job.

"The Son of Coul is alive?"

"Yes," Fury said simply.

Clint lunged and Steve was in front of him in a blink of an eye.  From behind him, Bruce said, "I know a little something about doing stupid things in anger.  Being right doesn't make them any less stupid."

"You know things are bad when Hulk starts handing out anger management advice," Tony said.  And then, "Take us to Phil."

*******************************************************************************************************************************************************************

After three weeks, Medical determined Phil could be released, if there was someone to take responsibility for him.  All six Avengers, plus Pepper Potts, signed on the dotted line.

They all did their part: Tony and Bruce built a suite in the Towers, designed specifically for Phil's rehab;  Thor, it turned out, was an amazing cook and kept them all fed and happy; Natasha, having taken Steve's pop culture education as her personal mission, kept them all entertained with a steady diet of the greatest hits of the last 70 years; and Steve ran interference with SHIELD, because he was their leader and because he was the one least likely to take a swing at Hill.

But taking care of Phil—making sure he took his meds, bringing him meals, cheerleading through physical therapy, giving him SHIELD stat reports—that fell to Clint.  No one decided it. Clint didn’t ask. But somehow they all knew.

Once it was clear just how of much his time Clint planned to spend in Phil's rooms, Tony built him a loft bed and carved "The Nest" in the headboard.  Clint couldn't tell if Tony was being nice or funny.  He said thank you either way.

He was in his nest one night when he heard a groan from Phil's bed.

"Son of a bitch."

"Hey, what's the matter?" He hopped down and crossed the room.

"Go back to sleep. I'm fine."

"Fury would die of shame if he could see how bad you've gotten at lying."  Clint took Phil's eye roll as a good sign. "What are you doing?"

Phil tugged at the hem of his pajama shirt.  He'd undone the buttons, but hadn't been able to slide it off his shoulders. "I just wanted to change my shirt."

"I can help with that."

"I wanted to do it myself."

"Is that a pout, Agent Coulson?"

"Is that snark, Agent Barton?"  Phil was actually smiling now and Clint thought, not for the first time, that it was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

"Did you have any particular shirt in mind?" He moved to search through the clothes Natasha had brought back from Phil's apartment.

"My Ranger t-shirt.  I wear it sometimes when I sleep.  I saw it in the top drawer."

He found the old, black t-shirt easily and fought the sudden, irresistible urge to smell it. "The doctors said button downs would probably be easier for now."

"Since when do you follow orders?" Phil asked, incredulous.

"Since my favorite handler's health depends on it," he replied easily.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Phil joked, but Clint could still see how dejected he was.  He sighed. "Maybe I'll just sleep without a shirt."

Clint helped him slide one arm, and then the other, out of the shirt. His wound was healing nicely. At least that's what the doctor's said.  But his chest and side were still covered in bruises.  Clint winced each time he saw them. And always felt a new wave of guilt.

"This isn't your fault, Clint."

He snorted.  Phil had always been too good at reading him.

"Hey. Look at me."  He didn't dare disobey. "This is not your fault. And even if it were, you're more than making up for it by taking care of me like this."

"Now who's doing the flattering?"

Another small smile, and Clint decided his aim was still pretty good. Phil settled back against his pillows and closed his eyes.  "What are the chances we can get Stark to put a flat screen and a DVR in here?"

"Knowing Tony and Jarvis, we'll wake up to an entire home theater, complete with cup holders and THX."

It was Phil's turn to snort.  "We should get some sleep."

"Do you need anything else?"

"Will you be here in the morning?"  It was an accepted truth at SHIELD: Phil could read Clint better than anyone, even Natasha.  But Clint had gotten pretty good at reading the older man as well.  And he could hear what Phil was asking: Are you taking care of yourself? And: How long are you going to punish yourself? And: Please don't make me do this alone.  Clint didn't know if he was ready to answer all of Phil's questions, but he could answer one.

"I'm here whenever you need me, sir."

"Just like always?" Phil was drifting, the painkillers and exhaustion taking their toll.

"Like always."

*************************************************************************************

Back in his nest, Clint settled in and closed his eyes.  For the first time in weeks, he wasn't haunted by broken memories of Loki or his fallen comrades. Instead, he dreamed of faded black t-shirts, and small smiles, and the voice in his ear. And for the first time in weeks, he woke believing that he and Phil (and their team) might just be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> The original post had Phil wanting to put on his gray Ranger t-shirt. My husband, a former Ranger, informed me that Ranger t-shirts are black and insisted on the change. He also said Phil's shirt is faded and worn because it's the same one he wore when he was in a Ranger battalion. My husband has made up a whole story about this shirt.


End file.
